


Moon Dance

by trustmeallnight



Category: NU'EST
Genre: M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:14:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24140413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trustmeallnight/pseuds/trustmeallnight
Summary: Jonghyun, Dongho, and a love song
Relationships: Kang Dongho | Baekho/Kim Jonghyun | JR
Comments: 3
Kudos: 45





	Moon Dance

**Author's Note:**

> we were all thinking it when the pre-listening came out lets be real
> 
> also moon dance best song the nocturne aoty thanks!

With a blank sheet of paper planted neatly on the desk, Jonghyun stares at the man seated on a swiveling chair. The older man looks at the empty paper and the pen cradled tightly in Jonghyun’s grip before turning to him. 

“Jongyun-ah, you sure you don’t want help? It’s a more,” Beomju pauses as he digs up the right word for it, “sensual. Not quite the love song you were hoping for.”

Despite his hyung’s concerned eyes, he waves away the producer before making his way out of the room. The pen is dropped on the wooden table while the sheet of paper is folded and stuffed into his bag. 

“I’m fine, hyung,” Jonghyun says as he hits the corner around the doorway. A smile forms under his hat. “I have all the inspiration I could need.”

To Beomju, and to the others, it’s his experimental project, this _Moon Dance_ they talk about. It’s not Daybreak where Minhyun and he softly crooned sweet love into their lover’s ears. They had wanted to capture it back then, capture how the moon and the stars were in love with the way their partners moved and sang, so much so the astronomical bodies embedded themselves deep in their eyes. It was the innocent love song that felt like delicate, pink roses all crushed up and patted onto soft cheeks, and it was the song that played as Jonghyun took his best friend's hand into his clammy ones and confessed just how fast his heart was beating.

Now, 

now, it's caressing their waists, and it’s tucking tiny hairs behind red ears and mouthing even sweeter nothings into sweating skin. It’s crawling between open legs and worshipping the body that’s gratefully offered. Beomju says it’s not a love song, but the twinkle in Minhyun’s eyes when he thinks about a certain pale waist and the skip in Jonghyun's steps after a night in together isn't just a song meant for slow sex. It's layers deep, and Jonghyun understands enough to the point that he's already written the whole sing itself twice over.

The door clicks shut behind Jonghyun as he toes off his shoes. The jacket, heavy on his shoulders, comes off and hangs lonely over a chair. He’s silent as he slinks through the dark living room, down equally dark hallways, and not even breath can break the way his socks muffle his heaviest steps. 

The empty paper comes out with a loud crinkle out of his bag and is flattened by strong hands. He doesn’t even bother turning on the fluorescent lights as he bypasses the small switch. His computer chair is pulled out and he settles himself into the cushion with a sigh. Only a lamp switch is flicked on accompanied by the familiar sound of wheels on wood floor before Jonghyun finally feels at home.

Like before, like many others, Kim Jonghyun explores the artist he truly is. Under the darkening night sky and the bright moon that he poured his beating heart over countless of times, he now uses them to hide his thoughts that simmer low and smooth through his pen. 

* * *

_ It’s our night together _

_ Hold my hand, dance with me _

_ Darling, what are you waiting for? _

_ With your favorite clothes out, _

_ When the night comes again,  _

_ I'm still loving you babe _

_ We're going to close the curtains _

* * *

It’s one in the morning when Jonghyun hears the ring of his phone. He sets the wet bowl in his hands down into the rack, dries off his hands, and picks up the phone.

“Hello?”

It’s a familiar voice that instantly sets his nerves aflame and has him pressing the phone even harder into the side of his face.

“Jonghyun-ah. What was  _ that _ _?_ ”

Jonghyun laughs, a genuine and loud one that has him stumbling down into a chair.

“What do you mean?” A resigned sigh before there’s shuffling behind the phone.

“I saw the outline for the first track. Beomju-hyung told me he was impressed with your writing,” Dongho says, “but that's not why I called—“

“So why did you?” Jonghyun teases. 

“We’re not stupid,” the voice on the other line trails off.

Of course they’re not stupid. Jonghyun didn’t write those lyrics just thinking about the beautiful night sky. They weren’t based off of Dongho’s favorite drama, and he certainly wasn’t thinking about the hundreds of beautiful women he’s ever had the chance to meet. Most of all, Dongho didn’t call just to tell him off.

“I take it you liked the song then?” His voice drops down a step lower. He’s on the verge of whispering to his room, and the speaker comes closer to his mouth.

“You’re unbelievable,” Dongho replies, “both you and Minhyun are crazy for putting this on the album. Seriously.”

Jonghyun snorts despite how much Dongho tries to curse him out. There’s a petulant tone to what he says, so Jonghyun keeps listening to the cute whining on the other side of the phone.

“—Come over,” Dongho says, and despite the low quality that splinters his words into a thousand pieces, Jonghyun suddenly hears it louder than even his own thoughts. 

“Now?”

It’s a bit too sudden, the way Dongho goes from being playful to stringing Jonghyun along with just a couple of words. He hears frantic rustling in the background.

“Now, Jonghyun-ah,” Dongho breathily says as his voice gets lower and lower that he could even rival Jonghyun’s own bass tone, “please.”

Jonghyun’s feet are already hitting the floor, and the keys are already settled in his hand by the time the phone hangs up at 2 minutes and 18 seconds and Dongho’s breathy moan worms its way into the pits of his burning stomach.

* * *

The second Jonghyun steps into the middle of the dark apartment, he’s grabbed by the shoulders and immediately kissed. The shadow of a body, Dongho, tightens on his shoulders considerably as he forces Jonghyun’s mouth to part for a slick tongue.

This.

This is what he thought of on that night cowering under his lamp light, pen scrambling to piece all of his thoughts together. Thoughts, or better yet,  _ memories _ , that mirror the way Dongho gets rough and greedy when Jonghyun proves just how infatuated he is with one man. Jonghyun gives and gives and gives, Dongho takes and devours until his jaw slackens. And when his body leans into Jonghyun’s and his waist begs to be held by the small dip right above his hips, Jonghyun grabs what’s his and takes tenfold.

“It’s dark,” Jonghyun says as he barely manages to break away from Dongho’s desperate mouth. Saliva and lip balm taste familiar, and his tongue curves around Dongho’s bottom lip before letting go. The tongue that chases after his own mouth is quick to lick at the stray spit staining his lips, the way that it chases after Jonghyun's taste so hot that he hardens even more.

The curtains, hung above a window that faces the open skyline, barely open for a couple of inches, so only a sliver of natural light botched by the darkness hits the floor. Jonghyun misses the jut of a pout, and he misses the sad eyes of his lover as he pulls away. He doesn’t miss the way arms circle around him and pull him backwards until they’re falling onto a couch. He lands with a thump, his arms trapped under Dongho's embrace and forced to dig into the cushion as lips press on his skin again.

“Forgot-” another kiss on Jonghyun’s quick to redden lips, “wanted you-” lips lead down to his neck and take little bites of their own, “bad.”

Jonghyun grins under the cover of night, something Dongho can’t see when he’s busy taking from Jonghyun once again, but the hands that push apart naked thighs are felt.

“Well,” Jonghyun whispers as Dongho’s lips detach from his neck and his own slide down a warm body, “I won’t keep you waiting, Dongho-yah.”

* * *

It’s unfortunate that, as Jonghyun’s fucking himself into a pliant, squirming body, he can’t see much besides the ambiguous shapes of arms thrown over a face and bent, shaking legs. It’s not needed, he knows, when the way Dongho’s eyes roll to the sky as his sweetest spot is brushed up against and the way his voice moans out quick replies to snapping hips is ingrained in Jonghyun’s subconscious. It's like walking blind in a square room he's lived in his entire life, except the room is every inch of tan skin and firm muscles he's touched since he was able to understand his desires to.

Though, the way Dongho whines with every deep push into his stomach and every stroke against his leaking cock will still invade every one of Jonghyun’s dreams. Familiarity, it's such a blessing when Jonghyun can still feel how new and exciting everything is, yet so comfortable he can never feel out of place. 

Then, it must be unfortunate that he can’t see how exactly Dongho’s face scrunches up with tears in his eyes, but it’s his greatest honor to listen to the stream of sounds that come out of too pretty lips.

“D’you want to know who I wrote about?”

Jonghyun snaps his hips in a little too hard, and the smack that resounds against Dongho’s ass overwhelms the grunt that tells Jonghyun it’s about to be too much.

“I wrote about you,” Jonghyun squeezes out as he wears himself out over and over just forcing Dongho to sing for him. “All I could think about was you and the way you felt wrapped around me so perfectly.”

“Jong-  _ fuck _ \- I’m-“

“My baby, _darling_ , I poured all of my heart into it just thinking about your pout, your eyes, your perfect body. The way you moan every night for me, the way your thighs feel so fucking constricting, the way you milk me for everything that I'm worth like my own personal toy. _God_ , it's so good, you're so good, that I wrote a fucking song for you.”

“ _ Stop _ ,” Dongho whines. A hand comes up to grab Jonghyun's arm and grip it tightly. Instead, Jonghyun ignores it, probably ignores the blush blooming like petals on Dongho’s cheeks, and focuses on the way heavy pants become more frequent and desperate.

“Did you know?” Jonghyun asks rhetorically to Dongho who only grabs onto his arm even tighter. “I think about you every night when you’re not here with me. I think about the way you look all red and flushed under me, begging me to fuck you for hours on end.” 

Dongho shudders under his distracted thrusts, the tattoos on his chest folding and bending as he moves every which way trying to run from Jonghyun's punishing pace. 

“ _ Fuck _ , baby, you’re so beautiful, so lovely moaning my name, so  _ gorgeous  _ that  I basically begged our producer to sing about how special you are to me .  And-” Jonghyun grunts out as his hips stutter for a half beat, “and thousands are going to listen to it. They’ll listen to the lyrics I wrote for you,  _ of you _ , and no one but the two of us will understand the way you constantly own my head.”

_ Yes.  _ Yes. That’s what Dongho wants, it’s what he craves so fucking much. Jonghyun’s obsessed with the thought of him, with the thought that Dongho is the nectar that slides down long limbs so sweetly, so fluidly, that people will forever think about the way he imprinted on them. It’s what

“Is that what you want?”

“Yeah, yeah, Jonghyun, I -  _ fuck _ \- I want it, want you, want the way you love me so much you’ll tell them all I’m the only one you think about,” Dongho blurts out in desperation that can’t be hidden under the watchful eyes of his lover. 

“It feels good, right?”

He squirms again as Jonghyun, relentless even when his own thighs tremble from the constant thrusts into a comfortable, familiar body. He’s still grabbing onto Jonghyun’s forearm, he still feels the muscles under his touch tense and soften like ocean waves.

“ _ Yes, _ it feels good, Jonghyun-ah,” Dongho squeaks out when his hips are lifted up and his hips are smacked into harder than before, “it feels so fucking good, you fuck me so hard, so deep, and the way that you love me so much, I can feel it all the way inside me. It’s all  _ so good _ .”

“Fuck, Dongho, you could make a man go insane.”

And, Jonghyun thinks as he just keeps fucking and fucking into a wailing and whining Dongho underneath, he might just go crazy one day. When it’s all too much, the overwhelming beauty of one man that blinds him during bright sunny days, and the simmering lust that builds up from his toes to his shoulders on the nights when said man strips to nothing, he’ll eventually lose it. He’ll dedicate every hour, every space of his mind that sometimes overwhelms itself with things other than  _ Kang Dongho _ , to the treasure that falls apart so delicately under his hands and hips. Losing himself in warm, tan thighs and the slick sounds of the way his cock loves being buried in his love is a wish and a curse, only because he still won’t have enough to fill himself up.

“Then,” Dongho hiccups once, twice, “do it. Go crazy for me, Jonghyun-ah.” 

He lets Jonghyun’s arm go before they head straight to his knees. Sweaty fingers grapple with his own skin to force his legs apart even more until he’s bent in angles he’ll never show under anything but the moon and Jonghyun’s narrowed, weak eyes. There’s more skin to bare, more sights to drink in with just two irises and Jonghyun hates how it’s never enough.

So, he leans into the extra space, sparing a low growl as he dives into spread thighs, a soft hole, and bitten lips that will always match his own teeth marks.

“Only for you, my beautiful.”

* * *

The recording studio is almost full by the time Dongho walks in. The voices of the other composers reduce to background noise as he walks in with a crumpled lyric sheet in one hand and a coffee in the other, and all Jonghyun can do is watch with lazy eyes as sweatpants and a rumpled shirt make him almost lift off of the couch.  The fingernails, heavily bitten under his teeth, are flopped back onto his lap as Dongho is ushered into the empty recording booth. 

“First track, second chorus, please.” 

Aaron, who recorded first, lays a threadbare vocal track that sounds hollow and lonely over a fuller beat. The eldest’s voice is single where not even the rest of the vocalists have joined him. It’s only Dongho that stands in the booth, headphones pulled over reddening ears, as he mouths along with Aaron’s soft lullaby.

_ Hold my hand with me, dance with me…  _

Jonghyun’s lyrics, his own lyrics that came out of just a swimming pool of thoughts and a busy pen, they sound good uttered from his hyung’s mouth. They’re comfortable, they’re sweet, they’re well tuned, and Jonghyun likes it. 

He’ll love it.

“When the night comes again, I’m still loving you babe,” Dongho croons into the mic. His eyes, usually shut so tightly when he’s reaching for the pitch he wants, are instead looking directly beyond the transparent glass. They reach past the team of producers staring vacantly at the computer screen and aim straight at Jonghyun. The cover of his cap doesn’t hide his own hooded stare, not that he wants to shrink back.

“We’re going to close the curtains…” 

It’s his song, it’s his lyrics, it’s the way tan skin caved under his fingers that allows Dongho to light him up in ways that haven’t been explored in eight years.

And as Dongho keeps singing, repeating the same lines over and over under his own direction, he keeps staring at Jonghyun. It’s as if Jonghyun never left Dongho’s bed that morning, by the way his lover’s looking at him with a low fire in his eyes. They’re still under the protection of the moon’s forgiving eyes, they’re still in love with the way their bodies fit together so perfectly.

Jonghyun, suddenly and unmistakably, misses the words he whispered into Dongho’s chest and the way Dongho whimpered back as if it was a good enough reply. He’ll never get enough, it’s never good enough, not in a million years will he ever be satisfied when he knows there’s more to breaking Dongho down than just a few hours behind curtains.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath. His lap feels uncomfortable now, and there’s nothing he can do besides press a discrete palm over his shorts and continue craving the way Dongho’s lips part and hang and the way his eyes flicker down to take all of Jonghyun in. 

It’s like they never left the couch, even, and it’s almost shameful that he’s close to pulling the man into a closet and ramming himself into a vocal-ridden throat. Jonghyun clears his throat, sits up even straighter, and finally pulls his cap over his eyes. 

This song, these lyrics, that voice, he almost wishes he never gave it a chance to see daylight. After all, he becomes so greedy for the one he dedicated it to, that he forgets how weak he really is under those eyes and curves.

* * *

_ The moonlight, if pouring down on you and I, don’t just let it flow away, just set some time for me. My feet are getting near where yours are, our hands are almost touching. Under the influence now, I feel awkward, but I don’t care. _

_ Will you take a few steps with me? My uncontrollable heart, it’s our night together _

_ Hold my hand with me, dance with me, darling what are you waiting for? _

Dongho laughs as he collapses onto Jonghyun’s heaving chest. His arms land on either side of Jonghyun’s face, and now he’s caged in between honey skin and a heavy torso.

“I can’t believe,” he takes more deep breaths on top of Jonghyun before smiling once again, “I can’t believe you made us fuck to your song.”

The speaker that lights up brightly in a red light blinks as the song changes. The too-familiar beat crawls up to as faint snaps sound in the background. Even the synths are melodic, quite beautiful in the way they follow Minhyun’s drawing words.

_ Hold my hand with me, dance with, darling what are you waiting for? _

Beyond closed curtains, under all-seeing ceiling lights, and below the person who Jonghyun has dedicated all of his vices to, he wraps his arms around a sweaty waist and pulls down.

“Our song,” Jonghyun says as he traces over red marks with a slow tongue, “I made it for you, didn’t I?” He groans with an open mouth against Dongho’s neck as the hips that ground in slow circles on his lap begin to bounce all over again. He doesn’t mind the load leaking out of an already wet, puffy hole, he only knows that Dongho starts up the rhythm that matches exactly with Aaron’s voice. His hips lift up to match the tiny downstrokes of eager bounces, and now it’s as if nothing ever changed.

“You’re insane,” Dongho muffles into his damp hair. 

“For who?”

Jonghyun’s hands follow the smooth curve of a waist, an arched back, and down active hips before he feels the horrible trembling of Dongho’s thighs. They’re still begging to ride Jonghyun, even when they probably burn more than the stretch between his ass, and it pleases Jonghyun too much. He fucks up even faster into Dongho, his hands grabbing onto clenched muscles and kneading them as to take away the strain on his poor treasure.

"Tell me who, baby."

“M-  _ Jonghyun-ah _ \- me,” Dongho breathily whines out as his arms collapse onto the bed. His chest comes down heavily into Jonghyun’s and both men feel as if air rushes out of the room entirely. Instead, Dongho leans down to steal his own breath back from the one caught in Jonghyun’s throat, easily sliding his tongue against Jonghyun’s and taking and taking, always fucking taking.

And Jonghyun allows it. He lets Dongho kiss his thoughts away, and he lets Dongho’s ass clap against his sore pelvis while they both chase their second release that night. It doesn’t matter that his lungs constrict into tiny sacks when red lips feel so soft against his, he doesn’t care when his knees refuse to budge from holding a heavy weight on top of him. His dick still aches to be in Dongho, his thighs don’t stop flexing as he pushes tougher thrusts into a willing hole, and his arms don’t lose the strength to caress strong, sweaty muscles. As long as Dongho lives and breathes for his love, his lust, and his greed, Jonghyun will keep giving and giving and giving, hoping for the slightest chance he’ll finally feel full enough of the person he adores and worships.

He’ll write more songs, he’ll sing more love sick lyrics, he’ll even steal the light from his own eyes if it means Dongho will keep looking at him with living stars in his eyes. Because that’s just who he is. A desperate, greedy man who loves his lover.

“It’s always you, Dongho.  _ Always _ .”

**Author's Note:**

> twt @ ifwithoutlove


End file.
